Flipside: Space Pirates
by LadyRhiyana
Summary: "Alright, Sherlock, I swear – if you get bored, yes, then we can steal a spaceship and become space pirates, but for God's sake let's try domestication first, shall we?" A cracky companion fic to my Sherlock/Star Trek: Into Darkness fic 'Starting Over', not to be taken seriously.


**Flipside  
****Summary: **_"Alright, Sherlock, I swear – if you get bored, yes, then we can steal a spaceship and become space pirates, but for God's sake let's try domesticity first, shall we?" _A cracky!companion fic to my Sherlock/Star Trek: Into Darkness fic 'Starting Over', not to be taken seriously.

* * *

This is how it began, with a throwaway comment –

"_Alright, Sherlock, I swear – if you get bored, yes, then we can steal a spaceship and become space pirates, but for God's sake let's try domesticity first, shall we?"_

* * *

Domesticity had proven too much for Sherlock to handle. Oh, he'd loved the quaint, cosy flat, the two armchairs placed so perfectly near the fireplace, the creaking floorboards and the comforting clutter. He'd loved John's transformation into a mildly cranky GP, the last traces of the once-fierce army doctor covered up by warm woollen jumpers and the complacency of London at peace. He'd loved the opportunity to indulge in his more childish impulses, that is, concocting outrageous, mostly explosive experiments, lazing about the flat in silken pyjamas and throwing melodramatic, hair-pulling tantrums. Since leaving his past life as a psychopathic genetically superior supersoldier behind, Sherlock had found his new life both profoundly satisfying and a crushing disappointment.

The problem was that London in the all-encompassing Federation was utterly _boring. _Oh, there was vice and corruption and murder, there always had been and there always would be, but the cases he'd envisioned, the consulting detective work, did not remotely measure up to the thrill of conquest that he'd felt as Khan Noonien Singh. He was stronger, faster, vastly more intelligent than anyone else and he needed _something _to engage his mind before he went mad.

Even John seemed to be worn out by the constant stream of runny noses, screaming children and endless banality. John, too, had once been used to far more exciting things: he'd operated under appallingly primitive conditions while men screamed and thrashed underneath him, he'd held them down, literally holding their lives in his hand as he clamped his fingers tight on their arteries. He'd once looked Sherlock straight in the eye, unflinching, and executed a man in the coldest blood imaginable.

It was driving them both mad.

* * *

This is how Sherlock initiated the discussion –

"_John," he said seriously, "This city is dull. This planet is dull. Everything is dull, dull, dull! I think it's time we became space pirates. It was your idea, after all."_

* * *

John had learned, long since, to take two or three – or even five – seconds to think before replying to Sherlock's more outrageous remarks. This time he needed a full ten seconds to even wrap his head around Sherlock's latest offering.

"First of all, Sherlock, no, it was most certainly not my idea –"

"Of course it was. When we first moved in together, you promised if I was ever bored by domesticity –"

"– and second, we are not going to steal a starship –"

"So you do remember."

"– to run off and become space pirates! I'm sure Mycroft will be more than happy to –"

"Mycroft!" Sherlock threw himself down on the couch with a dramatic huff. "I don't want to be a space pirate that badly."

John sighed, massaging his temples. He could feel an epic headache forming. Once, he'd thought dealing with Khan had been difficult.

"Do we have to become space pirates, Sherlock? How about let's get up into space first, and then see how we go."

* * *

And so, despite John's objections, they stole a spaceship and set out into space. It was only small, built for two, a worn, battered, eccentric little craft with one small nacelle, seemingly always in need of repair but still sound and willing. Not five minutes into their illicit voyage, while they were still hyped up on their own daring and giggling with adrenaline, they received a message from Mycroft containing registration papers and the deed to the spaceship, which Mycroft had, damn him, anticipated their naming the _221b_.

Sherlock threw a spectacular tantrum. John looked on in admiration. Their eyes met, and held, and they grinned like little boys in delighted, fierce excitement, buoyed up with glorious enthusiasm at the future that stretched out ahead of them.

And all the while their brave, valiant craft continued its voyage into space, taking the budding space pirates away from humdrum domesticity and towards boundless mysteries, adventures and deductions among the stars.

* * *

A/N – Thrown together in a gleeful rush, definitely unbeta'd and absolutely not to be taken seriously – this was too much fun. There will most probably be more to come in the future.


End file.
